


Sleepless Nights

by Craig (dokidave)



Category: Bevfolk
Genre: Masturbation, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 22:45:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5433617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dokidave/pseuds/Craig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He stares at the ceiling for a long time. He closes his eyes with a quieter sigh, and shifts more comfortably under the blankets. He touches his stomach with a hand, tracing with light fingers until he can feel himself relaxing.</p>
<p>He pauses… and then pushes his hand a little lower.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepless Nights

Reco rolls on his side, curling up and tugging the blankets up around his shoulders. He stares at the wall through the dark, blinking occasionally until he can see clearly.

He sighs, and rolls onto his back. It’s another one of those nights.

He picks up his phone and turns the screen on. He mindlessly flips through the screens, like there’s anything to see. It’s the middle of the night, there’s nothing there.

He picks a game and starts to play that instead, but it only lasts for a few minutes. He sighs defeatedly and tosses his phone back to the side.

He stares at the ceiling for a long time. He closes his eyes with a quieter sigh, and shifts more comfortably under the blankets. He touches his stomach with a hand, tracing with light fingers until he can feel himself relaxing.

He pauses… and then pushes his hand a little lower.

He touches himself through his boxers and lets out a shaky breath. He shuts his eyes again and starts to move his hand, rubbing slowly over the fabric.

He warm in his own hand, and tries to focus on that feeling. He lets his mind go quiet, and keeps rubbing lazily until he  _feels_  it.

He lifts his hips a little, pushing into his hand for more.

He slips his hand beneath the waistband, and sucks in a breath when skin touches skin. He wraps his hand around himself and lets his head roll back in his pillow.

He moves his legs, pushing them apart and bending at the knees. He takes an even breath, his fist still lose, and starts to pump.

It’s dry, and his skin pulls with his hand, but it’s still  _good_.

He tightens his fist and starts to pump a little faster. His face grows warm, and he opens his mouth to breathe. It’s quiet in his empty room, and echoes loud in his ears.

His skin starts to feel hot and the sheets are suddenly a little too heavy. He kicks them away, cold air hitting his skin sending a shiver through his body.

His hand moves quickly, but it’s not enough. He thrusts into his dry fist and shivers again, the harsh friction a little too overwhelming.

He slows his hand and rubs with his thumb, over the head and across the slit, and he didn’t realize  _how hard_  he was until his thumb slid easily through his precum.

He closes his fist over the head and his stomach tightens as he works it, his hand sliding more smoothly as the precum smears beneath it.

His breath comes heavy, coming out in pants as he works his hand faster, slower, trying to push himself closer to what he needs.

But it’s not enough. It’s  _good_ , but not  _enough_.

He sighs, frustrated, and slows his hand.

He pauses for a few seconds, then pulls his underwear the rest of the way off and rolls onto his stomach.

He sits up on his elbows and thrusts against the mattress.

His head hangs low, shoulders going tense as he thrusts again. And again, sliding over the sheets  _so_ nicely.

He reaches back down and wraps his hand around himself again. He spreads more precum over himself, just enough to be less raw, and has to bite back a noise when he thrusts again.

_Yes_ , this is what he needs. He hugs his pillow, biting down on it, and closing his eyes. He rolls his hips, slow, and sees a flash of  _his_  face in his mind.

He groans, his heart skipping a beat as it starts to pump faster. His legs start to go weak with the effort of his thrusts, forgetting for a moment where he is.

He’s  _close_  and he can  _feel_  it, in the back of his throat and on the tip of his tongue and in the pit of his stomach, begging to let go.

A few more thrusts and he’s gone, coming between himself and the mattress, shaking as it comes out in shots.

He rolls on his back again, pumping his hand furiously, riding out his orgasm as long as he can. His stomach muscles spasm, and his breath comes quickly as he comes down. His skin is kind of numb and his hair sticks to his forehead with sweat.

He lays there, his eyes still closed, and takes a moment to collect himself. He opens his eyes with a grimace as he realizes he’s laying in his own come.

He sits up and pushes his hair from his face with a yawn. He looks down and sighs, not willing to clean up after himself. He’s actually tired, now.

He stands up and pulls the sheets off his bed, balling them up and tossing them in the corner to be cleaned later, and then leaves to go clean himself up.

He can just sleep in Rocky’s room tonight instead.


End file.
